examining several farm hands beneath one of the big elms, while in the
background stood the farmer and his wife, looking somewhat perplexed, as
well as worried.

As the Prescott auto drove up, old Mr. Harding, in his usual rusty black
suit, rose from his seat under the elm, and whispered something to the
sheriff. The blue-chinned, thick-necked Mortlake arose also. All three
turned and gazed curiously at the young occupants of the car, as it slowed
down.

"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Galloway," cried Peggy. "We were dreadfully
sorry to hear of your loss. Have you any clue yet?"

There was something curiously cold in the woman's voice, as she replied in
the negative. Her husband looked sullen and merely nodded. The sheriff
now rose and came toward the machine. He knew all the young folks and
greeted them briefly. At his heels pressed old Harding and his companion.
They whispered in the sheriff's ear as he advanced, and seemed to be
urging him to something.

"I understand that you folks was in this house yesterday afternoon?" began
the sheriff abruptly.

"Why, yes, during the storm," said Peggy. "There was Lieut. Bradbury, of
the United States Navy----"

Harding and Mortlake exchanged annoyed glances. This was confirmation of
their fears.

"Yes, go on," urged the sheriff.